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<title>the home i feel in summer's doom by Kiunlo</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809258">the home i feel in summer's doom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiunlo/pseuds/Kiunlo'>Kiunlo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Home, Nonfiction, Summer, feelings of dread</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:47:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiunlo/pseuds/Kiunlo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoughts and feelings about "home"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the home i feel in summer's doom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>People associate different things with the word "home."</p><p>Certain sounds, like the wind blowing in the trees or the birds singing can make someone feel like they're at home. Maybe it's the sound of rain and thunder- a brief sight of lightning as it flashes across the sky. Sometimes it's just the types of trees that grow on the side of the road that evoke the sense of home. Just the deathly heat of summer or the freezing temperatures of winter can put someone in a state of reminisce.</p><p>Sometimes, home is just a feeling.</p><p> </p><p>The heat of summer brings with it the threat of fire and smoke. The smoke fills my lungs in such a familiar way, it feels like it's meant to be. Like it's always meant to feel that way, even if it hurts.</p><p>When summer comes, the ability to see even just 15 metres in front of me disappears as thick smoke surrounds me at all points. The sun turns completely red, and I can stare at it without it even hurting my eyes, it's glow completely lost as it becomes nothing more than a painted red dot on the horizon. The light that hits the ground is just as red.</p><p>Summer brings with it a sense of dread. A sense of impending doom. The sun becomes a goddess of death, bathed in the colour of her own blood.</p><p>I become a victim of stockholm syndrome, to an unforgiving land and a merciless god.</p><p> </p><p>This is what home is.</p>
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